The Storm

There was a storm last night.

With a wind that blew leaves away from the trees

with blaring whispers.

The rain that knocked on the glass of the windows

with melodic insistence,

as if she wanted to get in, bring freedom inside houses,

dancing a dance of her own.

The sky was as dark as some dreams are,

until it exploded in purple light

for a blink of an eye.

It was like magic

the sky that lit up

like he was in love,

like he was enraged,

like he was an illusionist

trying to impress a child

that cannot sleep.